Reasoning
by SoDunne
Summary: Eric was cold and closed off to deal with the disappointments in his life. He pushed people away to protect himself and the ones he cared about. But Tris was making it difficult to hold up his barriers. Eric-centric, 4/? in the "Chasm" universe.


***insert generic disclaimer here stating I don't own any of this***

 **A/N: Yooooo peeps. Here we are again. Lol. I had another plot for this, but I guess I scrapped it when I started this. I think I found a way to explain why Eric is the way he is - I mixed my theory in with canon. It's a little short, but I like where I ended it. I hope it works for you all. All of your reviews make**

* * *

Eric wanted to bang his own head into a wall, the previous night had been playing through his head, over and over again - taunting him. The look of fear in Tris's face - the image was stuck in his head - a permanent fixture since he'd woken up that morning. Holding the knife to her throat had scared him, and he was sure he'd be eternally sorry for it - not a foreign feeling to him; guilt.

His own paranoia had started to manifest itself in what he perceived as cowardly acts. He absolutely hated that he couldn't trust his own faction to the point where he had become hyper vigilant. Many people thought he was just mean, but he took his time to study people, to look for little intricacies in people so he knew whether or not he needed to watch them. He had information on every leader and every person he deemed suspicious.

Eric wasn't naive to the things around him, nor had he elected to ignore why Jeanine Matthews had chosen him to be a leader - to appoint him her eyes and ears in Dauntless. He was an asset. He was a valuable asset. And at first he didn't mind being in her back pocket - when killing people wasn't involved. Jeanine hadn't always had an insatiable need control all people in the city. At first, it was about gaining power from Abnegation and eventually absolving the faction because she felt they weren't tough enough to protect the city- her hunt for Divergent teenagers had come later. The problem of Divergence wasn't one that made sense to him.

He hadn't understood why he felt different from his family growing up, nor did his mother and father ever sit him down and explain to him why he was the way that he was. It wasn't a problem in their eyes, and his mother had always made it a point to tell him that they'd love him regardless of what faction he chose to join. That was when he decided to read everything he could get his hands on about Dauntless and self defense, he'd spend his days in the library and in his room, practicing and reading. And his parents allowed him to explore what he'd choose at the ceremony.

It wasn't until he'd reached the upper levels in school where he garnered attention for his high IQ. At the time, Jeanine had been an eager scientist, fascinated by the young brain. She had taken him under her wing, pushed him to excel and reach his potential as a student. She quickly became his mentor, a steady push for what she convinced him would be in his best interest.

Eric sat on his couch, scowling at the memories of his child and teen-hood. Now, after his first few years in Dauntless, he knew that she had always known about him.

It didn't matter that the man that had administered his aptitude test hadn't spared him - nor explained his results - Jeanine had known from the very start and groomed him to be the perfect hybrid of bravery and intellectual superiority. Back then, he had been an 18 year old kid and when Jeanine told him jump, he asked how high. He didn't know about divergence or that he was one. Jeanine hadn't broken the percentages down for him until later - he was a perfect mix of Dauntless and Erudite; his ability to be cruel and relentless and his natural curiosity and arrogance made him dangerously ahead of everyone else.

Eric had pushed himself to be the best initiate he could be, and chose to use logic and the knowledge he'd picked up on from books to help him. His instructor, Amar had taken a particular interest in him and Four. It was the first time in a long while where he wasn't the only person to be shown favoritism from an authoritative figure. He didn't like it - he didn't like Four - and ranking 2nd overall sucked. To make matters worse, Max had been pushing Four for the leadership role and for a while, Jeanine considered it. But Four didn't want the job -nor was he willing to be put in difficult and morally questionable positions. He chose to be in surveillance.

At that time, Eric had been vulnerable and susceptible to whatever plan Jeanine set in place. Amar figured out Jeanine's plans and he didn't like that she had her hand so deeply involved in Dauntless matters. He confronted Eric but he had been too blind to her and his loyalty to her that he only defended her. He was the last person to see Amar alive.

Eric looked far off into space, letting his muscle memory move his hands, dismantling his guns and cleaning them. He always remembered the exact day he realized that he'd been helping destroy his own people. He'd come across files he shouldn't have seen in Jeanine's computer - his own. He was responsible for the deaths of so many people - having believed they would destroy the city and he was exactly like them. As he stripped his last gun, he wondered if Jeanine knew he'd known for so long before she actually told him what she was doing and that she knew about him too. She explained in great detail how disposable he was if he didn't stay in line - starting his habit of sleeping with a knife under his pillow. No matter how much he hated her, he loved his family and she had the power to take them away from him. She already had, his father had already been taken from his mother and sister. His five year old sister would be parentless as a direct result of what he did with the information Jeanine armed him with. He closed his eyes, swallowing down his emotions. She had only given him the information to watch him squirm. He knew she had only shared with him what she wanted too. There was always more with Jeanine.

Eric had hated himself for a long time and it took him months to figure out a way to live with the blood of Jeanine's victim's on his hands. He also made a promise to himself that he would never get close to a another person. His father and Amar and were the last people he'd lose as a result of him not thinking about what he was was doing.

But Tris was making it hard.

He hated that he liked having her around. She was what kept sane in recent weeks. Whether she wanted to believe it or not, she was his definition of Dauntless. She had given him hope - another thing he hated. It would lead to his own disappointment, or worse, he'd end up without her.

Eric stared at the guns and the different knives he had on his coffee table, his arms on the back of his couch. He counted them, 4 different guns and their respective boxes of ammo, and a knife holder rolled out - six knives that reflected the dim light from the window. Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to have to use them on Jeanine and if he'd pull the trigger or send a knife through the air.

He heard his apartment door opening, but he knew who it was.

"You're still up?" Eric looked over the back of his couch. Tris was standing there, her hand on her hip.

He nodded. "Clearly."

Tris smiled and walked over to him. "Cool it, Mr. snappy pants." She sat down next to him and pulled off her shoes. "You're going to start being nice one of these days."

Eric gave her a look before he grabbed a knife and laid his head in her lap, "I highly doubt that, Stiff." Even in the dark of his living room, he could tell she was scowling. He twirled the knife in his hand, running his fingers over the point. "I don't get respect by being nice."

"You know what I think?" Tris spoke softly, running her fingers over his shoulders, pressing her thumbs in his sore muscles.

Eric rolled his eyes, despite how she felt having her hands massaging her shoulders. He couldn't think when she was doing that. He could only grunt a response to her question.

"I think you're just mean so you don't have to deal with people." Tris said, watching the way he flinched.

"It works," Eric said, stabbing the knife he had into the rug he had under the coffee table. He looked up at Tris. After a brief staring contest, he sighed, "It works."

Tris shook her head, aware that she had struck a chord. She wasn't afraid to ruffle his feathers. "And yet, here we are." She smiled, looking down at him. She felt like she'd won a contest. "You're more transparent than you think."

Eric looked up at her, studying her. She was so sure of herself when she was with him - she saw right through him and it terrified him. He didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her. Sitting up, he pulled her with him, so she was kneeling in front of him. He touched the soft skin of her face, traced her lips with his thumb. Tris closed her eyes and waited for whatever he did next.

Tris stared at him and frowned. He looked like he had a lot on his mind. It made her sad to think that whatever it was had made him the hard, disconnected person that everyone believed he was. But she had a feeling that there was more to him. It was in his eyes. He looked at her like he wanted to say something - he wanted to push her away but at the same time, begged her not to leave. "You're different with me." She thought aloud.

"Because," He kissed her forehead, barely grazing his lips against her skin. "You've ruined me." He whispered, looking at her with a smile.


End file.
